My Aunt Jackie

My Aunt Jackie always says, ‘when you are doing something you hate to do, but you have to, or you want to do something, but you know it’s wrong, don’t think about it. Just think of doing it with your favorite movie star.

Aunt Jackie says most women hate to see a male Gynecologist, and whenever she goes to see hers, she thinks of him as the late but younger Sean Connery.

Her Dentist is Harrison Ford, and her Therapist is Tom Cruise. Hannibal Lecher in the Silence of the Lambs is her cruel ex-husband. My Aunt Jackie hates to cook, but when she has to cook for her kids, she says Sidney Poitier is coming to dinner. Mom said she was crazy and was still looking for the lost city of Atlantis.

I was probably the only sixteen-year-old grounded for the entire weekend while the Valentine’s Day Fraternity Party of the century was happening.

I convinced myself that I would be there if Mary Poppins had to take me. Then I remembered Aunt Jackie’s words.

I think of myself as Doogie Hauser MD, and someone at the party needed a heart transplant. It was an emergency. Mom reminded me that I was grounded for the thirteenth time, but she was my minor obstacle.

My major obstacle was getting out of the window of the high-rise apartment complex we call home since the door was the forbidden fruit. Right now, I could see Sir Hiss, the snake, Prince John’s partner from Disney’s Robin Wood, and he was teasing me with juicier apples at the window.

We lived on the sixth floor, and there were no trees at my window. The last time I saw a tree, it was tattooed on Christian Slater’s butt, and a gorilla was swinging from it.

It was in the National Enquirer Mom bought this morning.

I waited two hours after I heard my father snoring, and my mother turned out the lights in her room, which was 12:10 AM.

I decorated my young sexy body in a red and black Kelly Bundy original I borrowed from Jaynie. A lower heel danger red pumps, of course. Mom wouldn’t allow me to wear anything over three inches, and her six inches were too small. Not that I could walk in them.

I finished adorning my body with Mom’s Tiger striped fake fur coat and matching purse. Tonight was going to be in the fifties, according to the weatherman.

We are having a mild winter this year.

I had no ladder, but we do have sheets. There were only six sheets in the linen closet facing my room. Gosh, I had forgotten tomorrow was wash day for my Mom. She likes to wash on Sundays. Less crowd in the laundromat in our basement, she says.

‘Darn it!’ I cried, glancing around in deep thoughts. Mom had already packed away the dirty laundry bags. I didn’t have enough time to search. All of my movement must be like a mouse, quiet. And you would think there would be more sheets in a family of four and a cat.

‘Hey, this isn’t the Trump Tower, you know,’ a voice inside protests.

Nine sheets should do, I thought to myself. After taking my fitted and flat sheet off my bed, ‘I still needed three more,’ I said to myself, thinking how my little brother slept as dead as a log rolling downstream!

After making my ladder of sheets, I tied the first end of the sheet to my door knob inside after locking my door; then, I threw the rest out the window. It was only one hundred and ten pounds. The door could take my weight, I hoped.

I have waited six months to get close to David Wilson III, and at tonight’s party, the Jaws of Life will need a Jaws of Life to tear us apart. Plus, I had promised him yesterday at school I would be there.

He was a triple fantasy. He had the sculptured body of Michelangelo’s sculptor of David, with a Tom Cruise smile, a James Bond style, and more money than the Sultan of Brunei. Jaynie, my best friend, and I planned to meet at the Dragon Lounge. A nightclub nearby at 1:00 AM.

After watching Disney’s ‘Jungle Book,’ I convinced myself that Jason Scott Lee was with me. I moved through the house quietly like a mouse in the dark, my shoes in my hands.

Flight nine should land in less than…nine minutes!

Thank you for reading this piece. I hope you enjoy it.